Merciless Legacy: Merciless Murder - A Thrilling Closed Circle Mystery Series

by Tikiri Herath

“Was it the storm?” I asked.

  “A storm can take a tower out,” said Tetyana, “but the bars are still green, which is strange.”

  She stood up and scanned the room. “Unless....”

  “Unless what?”

  “Someone jammed the signal.”

  “That’s crazy,” said Katy, “that only happens in espionage films or murder movies....” She trailed off.

  I turned to Tetyana, remembering what she’d said to us outside Mrs. Robinson’s room.

  “Didn’t you say you found something you wanted to show us?”

  Tetyana reached into her vest and pulled out a long white envelope.

  “Saw this on Mrs. Robinson’s bedside table, just now. Thought it was one of those letters, but it’s not.”

  She placed the envelope on the counter in between us. It was sealed and had an airmail stamp with a postal watermark on it. This meant it had come here by mail.

  Katy and I peered at the typeface on the face of the envelope. The letter had been addressed to Mrs. Robinson, but it was the address under the FROM line that sent a chill down my spine.

  “Madame Bouchard?” said Katy in a shocked whisper. “How did she send this from her grave?”

  “Maybe she mailed it before she died and it got lost.” I picked up the letter to examine it. “Wait, this was stamped four days ago.”

  “The day after her death,” said Tetyana. “Stranger and stranger.”

  “Could have been the lawyer,” I said. “Maybe this letter was part of her last will and testament and he was merely following instructions. We must let Peace know.”

  “This hasn’t been opened,” said Katy. “Mrs. Robinson must have just got it.”

  I looked at my friends. They looked back at me.

  I knew what we had to do.

  “You know it’s illegal to open someone's letters, right?” said Katy, reading my mind.

  “She’s dead, Katy,” said Tetyana.

  “I don’t care about the million-dollar payout anymore,” I said, “I just want to find out who hounded Mrs. Robinson. And I want to expose them.”

  “Expose them?” said Tetyana, her mouth set in a stern line. “I want to make the bastards pay.”

  Katy gave a determined nod. “I’ll do whatever we have to do.”

  She got up and walked over to the cutlery drawer. She rummaged around until she found what she was looking for and came back to the counter with a small steak knife in her hand.

  She took the letter from me and slit it open.

  I glanced at the door. Barry’s shouting had died down, and it seemed like the pastor was keeping everyone calm as they kept vigil over Mrs. Robinson’s body.

  “I’m keeping an eye,” said Tetyana as she saw me look. “We’re good.”

  “It’s a will,” said Katy, unfolding the letter. “A handwritten will.” She placed the single piece of paper on the counter and smoothed the creases.

  Tetyana and I leaned over the counter.

  “It’s a codicil,” I said, “an addendum to Madame Bouchard’s will.”

  “Looks exactly like the one Peace showed us,” said Katy, “same lawyer’s insignia on top and everything.”

  She was right. Madame Bouchard’s formal will was fifty pages long, chock full of legalese that Peace said was standard wording. This letter was in the same format, but it had only two paragraphs.

  The first explained who she was, and that this was an addendum to her last will and testament dated a week before she died.

  The second paragraph had only four sentences.

  Katy read it out in a low voice while Tetyana and I leaned in to hear.

  “I bequeath my New Hampshire home and all its possessions to the Red Heeled Rebels for their use as an orphanage for the lost and abandoned children of America. My offspring made their beds a long time ago. They can lie on them now. Only God can help them for the sins they have committed.”

  Chapter Twenty-four

  We stared at the paper for what must have been a full minute.

  I rubbed my eyes and read the paragraph again. Then I looked up at my friends. Their faces told me they were as shocked as I was.

  “Madame Bouchard left this house to us?” said Katy.

  “A mother’s true love, eh?” said Tetyana, taking the paper to scrutinize it. “She’s playing everyone from her grave.”

  “A sick joke, maybe?” I said.

  “I think this is the real deal,” said Tetyana.

  Katy leaned in. “Barry and Lisa aren’t the most charming people, but what do you have to do to get disinherited like this?”

  Tetyana and I shook our heads. Mrs. Robinson had been right. This house held too many secrets, and we were just scratching the surface.

  “We need to talk to Peace,” I said, rubbing my tired forehead. “He can tell us where it came from and who wrote it and if it’s real.”

  “Looks pretty legit to me,” said Tetyana. “Sure, this could be forged, but why would anyone do that? Unless it was one of us, and I’m sure none of us did this.”

  I felt the raised logo with the tip of my finger. It felt real, but I’d seen cleverly forged passports that had fooled even the US immigration department.

  Anything was possible.

  “The thing is Mrs. Robinson died without knowing what was in this letter,” I said. “Why didn’t she open it? Whenever I get snail mail, I rip the envelope to see what’s in it while I’m still standing at the postbox.”

  “Me too,” said Katy. “I never get real mail anymore.”

  “Did someone plant this at her bedside table then?” said Tetyana.

  “Maybe the same person who sent the hate letters?” I suggested.

  “The same person who killed poor Mrs. Robinson?” said Katy.

  “But why would they do that?” said Tetyana.

  “To frame us?” I said and immediately shook my head. “No, that makes little sense.”

  Katy looked around the kitchen and then at us. “If this letter isn’t a dud,” she whispered with a glint in her eye, “does this mean we own this mansion now?”

  I stared at my friend, letting her words sink in.

  We fell silent after that, trying to come to terms with our discovery.

  The sound of a vehicle’s engine made us all swivel around on our stools. The headlights of a car cut across the window.

  Jim’s truck was coming up the driveway. The truck stopped halfway toward the house and Jim’s head popped out of the window.

  We watched as he maneuvered his vehicle around a dead branch and park a few spots away from where he’d parked earlier.

  Jim and a stranger stepped out of the truck, slammed the doors shut, and hurried across the driveway toward the side door.

  “They’re coming!” said Katy, grabbing the codicil from the counter and stuffing it into her pocket. Tetyana picked up the envelope, folded it and slipped it into her vest.

  With a quick twist of the doorknob, Jim opened the door and held it wide for the doctor to enter.

  The man we’d all been waiting for stepped inside with his doctor’s bag.

  It was a man in his mid to late sixties. Tall, thin and pale, and with a nasty cut on his nose, Doctor Fulton looked like someone in need of a medic himself.

  I wondered how he’d got that fresh facial injury. He didn’t look the sort of man to get into a bar brawl. It triggered a memory in the back of my brain, but for the life of me, I couldn’t make sense of it.

  “Ladies,” he said with a slight nod, seeing us.

  He spoke with a slightly nasal tone. I wondered if it was the damage to his nose or if he always spoke like that.

  “Doctor Fulton?” I said.

  “Where is she?”

  “In her room.” I pushed my stool away and stepped toward him. “I’m afraid we have bad news. Mrs. Robinson expired several minutes ago.”

  His shoulders drooped, and he stared at me as if he didn’t want to believe it. Jim was staring at me too, from be
hind him.

  “She’s gone?” he whispered.

  “I’m sorry.”

  The doctor shook his head, his brow deeply furrowed. “But she was in such good health. Fit for her age. I can’t imagine how—”

  A yell in the corridor made us all turn.

  “I told you already! Leave me the hell alone!”

  I’d recognize that voice anywhere now.

  Barry stomped in, arms swinging, and spittle trickling down his chin.

  The man’s deranged, I thought. Completely and utterly unhinged.

  I remembered the scrapbook Katy had discovered in our room. Suddenly, instead of feeling disgust, I felt pity. Maybe he wasn’t just a common, middle-aged ass of a drunkard. Maybe he was in serious need of psychiatric help.

  Do mental health issues run in the family?

  “You!” he roared as he spotted us three at the kitchen counter. “I want you all out!”

  We stared at him in shock.

  Ignoring Jim and the doctor, Barry strode toward us.

  “Interfering busybodies! You city folk come in here and look what happened? Don’t need no squatters in this house. You hear me!”

  He’s kicking us out?

  Pastor Graham came up from behind Barry and put an arm on the man’s shoulder. Barry jerked his hand off.

  “Leave me alone, you old fool!”

  “Calm down. There’s no need for—”

  “Who invited you people to trespass and hang around here, huh?” said Barry, his eyes dark and flashing in fury. “I want you lot out of my home!”

  Was Barry on any medication? I wondered if he was truly upset at us or if he was reacting to Mrs. Robinson’s sudden death the only way he knew how—lashing out at anything and everything.

  He took one step closer to us.

  Tetyana moved forward.

  “Barry—” I heard the pastor say.

  Within seconds, Barry swiped at Katy’s head and yanked her hair back.

  “Let me go!” shrieked Katy as she fell off her stool.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Katy struggled, but Barry kept his stubborn grip on her hair.

  He whirled her around the room, like they were taking part in a strange and cruel dance.

  I jumped in.

  “Let her go!” I shouted, pulling at his hand. Katy shrieked and tried to push him away, but that only made Barry hold on tighter.

  “Oi!” I heard Tetyana shout.

  She was behind Barry, her hands clamped down on his shoulder. He buckled under her grip, yelling in pain. Within seconds, she pulled him off Katy, twisted him around, and pinned his arms to his back.

  Barry bawled, his spittle flying everywhere, but Tetyana held on. For an obese drunkard, he had strength.

  “Settle down!” she yelled.

  But he writhed even more. As if she’d had enough, Tetyana slammed him against the kitchen wall.

  “Stop it!” exclaimed the pastor, rushing over.

  I pulled a trembling Katy away from the melee.

  “You okay?”

  She gave me a petrified look, too shocked to answer.

  “Lemme go, you fool!” screamed Barry.

  The pastor raised his voice. “For God’s sake, behave yourself! For your dead mother’s sake!”

  That seemed to do it. Barry stopped struggling. He turned and stared at the pastor like he was seeing him for the first time.

  “Settle down, my good man,” said the pastor, his voice softened.

  Barry opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Tetyana released the man and stepped away.

  “Relax,” said the pastor in a calm and soothing voice. “Everything’s going to be okay. You’ll be fine.”

  I noticed tears running down Barry’s face. Was it the mention of his mother’s name that brought the tears?

  The pastor took Barry by his arm and ushered him to the rocking chair in the corner.

  “We can’t go attacking people like that,” I heard him say in a quiet voice, like he was speaking to a child. “Whether or not they’re strangers. You need to watch yourself, my man. Didn’t we talk about this?”

  Barry didn’t reply. He shot a wretched look at the pastor and collapsed into the chair. Then, he dropped his head into his hands and started moaning.

  The doctor who’d been crouching on the threshold, ready to bolt outside if Barry came too close, stirred.

  He shot us a wild-eyed look.

  “I need to see Mrs. Robinson,” he said, nervously glancing around him, like he didn’t know where he was anymore.

  Jim, who’d been slinking into a safe corner of the kitchen turned around to us, his face slightly red. I noticed those glassy eyes again. It was like he wasn’t fully there. Maybe Tetyana was right, and he was on drugs.

  He gave Tetyana an apologetic shrug, like it embarrassed him that he hadn’t been the one to stop Barry.

  “I, er...,” he stammered, “don’t think he had his meds tonight.”

  “Mrs. Robinson?” repeated the doctor, in a firmer voice.

  “She’s in her room,” I replied.

  Jim turned to the doctor. “I’ll take you.”

  Pastor Graham was pouring water into the kettle to make tea for Barry while Barry was rocked back and forth in his chair, moaning.

  “What’s wrong with him?” I whispered as I sidled up to the pastor. “What does he take meds for?”

  “This and that,” said the pastor, his eyes on the kettle.

  “Was Barry close to Mrs. Robinson?”

  The pastor didn’t look up. “We were all close to her.”

  “It’s a very sad day.”

  “She kept us all together. If I’d known she was sick....”

  The pastor turned his back to me. He reached up to take a packet of tea bags and two mugs from the cabinet on top.

  I had so many questions, but I didn’t want to bother someone who was grieving. Then again, Pastor Graham was not really part of the family.

  “The doctor just told us she was in fine health,” I whispered. “He sounded surprised.”

  “Did he now?”

  “Didn’t you notice her coughing and wheezing recently?”

  The pastor fiddled with his tea mugs. I wondered why he didn’t turn my way. Was he concealing his expression or was he truly that absorbed in his tea making?

  Tetyana was keeping one eye on Barry, ready to leap on him if he gave any more trouble. Katy sat quietly on her stool, a glass of water in front of her, recovering from the shock of being violently twirled around the room by her hair.

  “Did you see how she was at dinner tonight?” I said. “Was that unusual of her?”

  The pastor let out a sigh.

  “I thought it was a common cold or something. You never know when these things can happen. We think we have years to go, but Providence decides when we will go and how.”

  He turned around, a strange expression on his face I couldn’t quite make out.

  “It’s God’s will.”

  He paused as if he was trying to choose his next words carefully. He turned to Tetyana and Katy, then back to me.

  His eyes narrowed.

  I braced myself.

  “I think you all had best leave now.”

  An awkward silence fell in the room.

  Tetyana, Katy, and I stared at the pastor. All I could hear was the kettle whistling now. Barry had stopped moaning, like he was listening in too.

  In their silence was a strong message. The pastor didn’t need to tell us anymore. We were strangers and no one here wanted us around.

  I scrunched my forehead, trying to think of how we would convince them otherwise.

  We couldn’t share the codicil with the family yet. When we did, we’d have to do it without making anyone feel threatened. If Barry reacted in fury at our presence without knowing this important fact, I couldn’t imagine how he’d react when he heard the news.

  I sighed.

  The kettle started whistling, and the pa
stor turned his attention back to his tea.

  Tetyana stepped over to the window and gazed out.

  “Crazy storm last night,” she said to no one in particular. “I’ll go clean the driveway so we can get our car out.”

  She turned to the pastor.

  “There’s some free kindling for the fireplace out there. Happy to pick it up for you.”

  The pastor gave a noncommittal nod and walked over to Barry with a mug of hot tea. He was clearly not interested in continuing the conversation with us.

  Tetyana opened the side door and walked out.

  Just as the door closed behind her, Lisa and Nancy entered through the door to the staff entrance. Both had red eyes.

  “Water’s boiled,” said Pastor Graham, seeing them come in. He was kneeling in front of Barry, cajoling him to take a sip of the tea.

  Lisa strode across the kitchen toward the kettle, deliberately ignoring us. Nancy followed her like she was on a leash, eyes averted. I couldn’t help but think she looked like an obedient pet.

  The get-out-of-our-home vibes were even stronger now. Katy and I glanced at each other. It was like we were invisible.

  Normally, we’d never hang around a mourning family who wanted their privacy. But this was different.

  I was sure this family didn’t want us around because they were more interested in hiding their secrets than finding out how their caretaker had died.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  “I’m going upstairs to get our bags,” said Katy, speaking loud enough to make sure everyone heard. But no one looked her way or acknowledged her.

  “I’m coming with you,” I said.

  Katy and I didn’t speak until we got back into our room. I closed the door behind me and let out a sigh.

  “What a day.”

  “How are we going to make them let us stay?” said Katy, plopping down on the bed.

  I shook my head. “No idea.”

  I walked over to the window to check on Tetyana. Through the light of the lamppost outside, I could see her figure below, moving around our car.

  The major portion of debris had fallen about twenty yards away on the driveway, but she was pottering around our vehicle. I wondered what she had up her sleeve.

  I paced the room.